


all we believed as children

by justlikeheavn



Category: IT (1990), IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Anxiety, Coming Out, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier-centric, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier is a Mess, Sexuality, apart from georgie :(, eddie was never married, enjoy, random elton john references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:35:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23670172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justlikeheavn/pseuds/justlikeheavn
Summary: Post IT Chapter Two. The losers have learnt how to live again, except Richie. For the first time in 27 years, Richie Tozier feels alive and he has to confront everything that he's suppressed. Everybody reacts to trauma in different ways. And for Richie, it's taking everything in him to not shut down completely. He can't bury his worries in jokes anymore. He can't even call Eddie back. But with a little help from his friends, maybe he still has a fighting chance.This is a story of self acceptance, recovery, friendship and love.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 14





	all we believed as children

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovelies, hope you're all keeping well in these crazy times <33  
> Pls enjoy and feel free to leave a comment or kudos
> 
> TWs for chapter one:  
> implied alcohol reliance

Everything was different after Derry. Richie had spent the better part of 27 years feeling like he was floating. His days didn’t feel very significant. His achievements passed him by. Getting Mike’s call and going back to Derry felt like someone holding a blaring alarm clock right to his face. He was alive. He could feel. And his friends, the ones he’d forgotten all about, were alive too. For some of the Losers, this wake up call was nothing but a good thing. Bill finished an amazing novel, which Richie had received in the post a few weeks ago. Stan had gone away with Patty, and if their FaceTimes were anything to go off, he was happy. Bev’s divorce was complete, and she was in a new place with Ben in LA, only a few miles from Richie. Mike was in Florida, fucking finally. His next plan was to go and stay with Bill. Then Eddie. Eddie quit his job in New York. Which is good, because he hated that job. Richie wasn’t actually sure where or what Eddie was doing right now, because he hadn’t reached out. And not because he didn’t want to. So that leaves Richie. Richie who has stayed put, completed his rescheduled comedy tour, and has barely left his apartment in two weeks.

The trauma of Derry hadn’t lit a fire under his ass, not like it had for the others. And that’s not to say the others didn’t struggle. Hell knows they did. The Losers had had so many late night skype sessions when they couldn’t sleep. Getting past everything was hard, but they’d done it. Apart from Richie. Derry had chewed him up and spat him back out. Everything he was ignoring and suppressing was out in the open. But let the record show, he was grateful. He really was. He’d been missing these people, nameless, faceless ghosts that were lodged in the back of his mind. And he had them back now. He had Eddie back. But here he was. 2:30 in the afternoon, lying on the couch in his darkened living room.

Richie’s phone buzzed against the table and he groaned, reaching out for it. He couldn’t see squat without his glasses, so he scrambled around before he finally grabbed it.  
“Y’ello?” he said.  
“Fuckin’ finally! Ever read your texts?” Steve said.  
“Nope. Can’t read.”  
“Asshole. Okay, well… I wanted to go through your ideas for the meeting tomorrow. And for the love of god, please shave before-”  
“Wait, what meeting?”  
“Richie, are you serious?” Steve said, his words angry but his tone concerned.  
“The HBO one? That’s not until next week,” Richie said, rubbing his eyes with his free hand.  
“It is next week, you dumbass. What the hell is going on with you? Are you drunk?”  
“No I’m not drunk, Steve. I just… I took a xanax. I’m fine. Sorry,” Richie said, wishing he had a joke on the tip of his tongue like he normally does.  
Where the fuck had the time gone? He was suddenly worried that he’d slept for ages.  
“I’m going to pretend I’m not worried about you,” Steve sighed, “this meeting is fuckin’ important, okay? If you need it postponed, tell me. I can swing that. You need to be on your a-game.”  
Richie thought about it for a moment. The gravity of the situation wasn’t even dawning on him. This meeting had been on the cards for a while. He didn’t want to fuck it up.  
“Um… Can we… Can we postpone, please? I’m not… I’m not feeling well.”  
“Richie…”  
“I know these last few months have been a fuckin’ nightmare, okay? I can’t even kid with you, I’m trying to get back on my feet.”  
“Are you trying?”  
“Well… I will be, okay? I’m already singing ‘I’m Still Standing’ in my head right now. Through the power of Elton John I shall-”  
“Shut up, Richie. I will reschedule the meeting. But this is the last time, okay? I’ve dealt with a lot of your shit over the years and I don’t want to see you fall on your face again.”  
The line went flat and Richie sighed, sitting up and grabbing his glasses from the table, shoving them on. He squinted at the light from his phone. Messages had built up, all unread. Losers group chat. Bev. Bev. Bill. Eddie. A missed FaceTime from Stan. He didn’t manage to read them all before he dozed off again. Only a light sleep. A light sleep accompanied by the same dream that he’d been having over and over.

*

It seems Richie was now in the habit of forgetting things, because he’d also forgotten about a dinner he was having with some of the Losers. Bill was passing through for his book tour and was crashing at Bev and Ben’s, so the four of them had arranged dinner a while back. Richie had really been looking forward to it, and then it completely slipped his mind. He still hadn’t had the energy to go through his phone, but he had showered. He stepped out, towel wrapped around his waist and looked at himself in the large mirror. Considering how much he’d been sleeping, the bags under his eyes were ridiculous.  
Richie stepped out into his bedroom and put on a fresh change of clothes, walking out to the kitchen. He hadn’t noticed a certain redhead, who had let herself in and was sitting on the couch.  
“Oh, he’s alive!” she said.  
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Marsh! Warn a guy,” he said, confused, and surprised, though a little grateful to see another person.  
He took a seat next to her, “how the hell did you get in here? Was it Al at the front desk? That guy is a-”  
“You gave me a key, you dummy. I came to check on you, because you,” she poked him right in the chest, “can’t answer your fucking phone!”  
“Sorry Bev, I’m just… really famous. My phone rings off the hook,” he said, avoiding eye contact with her.  
“Richie…” she said, reaching out and taking one of his hands. He looked startled at the contact.  
“Hm?”  
“I’m worried about you. We all are.”  
“Why?”  
“Because it feels like you’re falling off the face of the planet. You haven’t returned my calls or messages in a week. That’s not like you.”  
“I’m fine. I’ve just been busy, y’know, planning for meetings,” he rambled, and he knew she wasn’t buying it.  
She looked at him. With that look that only Beverly Marsh was capable of. A look she mostly reserved for her boys. She studied the bags under his eyes and the jitteriness of his hands.  
“You’re still coming to dinner tonight, I assume?”  
Richie cussed under his breath. He knew there was something, “oh. Yeah. Yeah. Course I am.”  
“Good,” she let go of his hand and hugged him, “I know you don’t want to talk. But Jesus Richie, fucking text me back. And when you do want to talk about whatever the hell is going on, you know where to find me.”  
Richie nodded, closing his eyes and reeling in the touch. She made him want to open up, she really did. But he couldn’t yet. Dinner though, he could do that.

*

Richie made himself look semi presentable for the dinner. He was looking forward to it, he really was. He combed his hair and pushed his glasses up his nose. He looked okay. Richie found himself wishing all of the Losers would be there tonight. But hey, it’d be easier this way. No Eddie Kaspbrak to distract him. He could get through dinner, the Losers will stop worrying about him, and then everything will be great. Richie sat in his lounge while he waited for the uber, scrolling on his phone. For what felt like the hundredth time, he opened instagram and searched @eddie_kaspbrak. A new post. He felt his heartbeat pick up. It was posted only a few hours ago, a picture of Eddie smiling. It looked like he was hiking, maybe. Richie stared at the face of his best friend. The one he didn’t even have the courage to text back. He looked at the scar on his cheek and it was the most Richie had felt in days.  
Richie arrived just a few minutes late, which for him, was good. He knew he didn’t look great, he just hoped that the others wouldn’t mention it. This was fine. There was a pull of anxiety in his chest as he opened the door to the restaurant, a little short of breath. He peered around, spotting Bev and he felt a little calmer.

“Come on, Tozier,” he mumbled to himself, walking over.  
“Richie!” Ben, Bev and Bill all said pretty much at the same time.  
They all got up to hug him, and Richie was grateful for it. He sat down.  
“Hey guys! Jesus Bill, what’s with the hair? You tryna’ get a ponytail or a mullet?” Richie asked with a laugh.  
“Fuck you man, I’m trying something different,” Bill replied, grinning at him.  
Richie looked at Bev, who looked nervous. And then she was doing that look again. Richie stuck his tongue out at her. Mature, he knows.  
“So Big Bill, how’s the book tour?” Richie asked, looking at his surroundings. It was only then he noticed an extra place set at the table. “Oh? Is Audra here, Bill? I woulda’ dressed up a bit more.”  
And as if on queue, that’s when Richie heard it.  
“Yeah that’s totally fine, I’m not actually allergic to dairy I’m just sensitive to it.”  
Richie’s eyes snapped up, and landed on Eddie Kaspbrak. Right in fucking front of him, rambling to a waiter. He could feel everyone’s eyes on him. God, how he wished the ground would swallow him up. He hadn’t been prepared for this. The shock quickly became oh my god Eddie is here, I am so happy. His body didn’t quite catch up with that, though. Eddie set the waiter free and saw Richie had arrived. He looked so healthy. So happy.  
“Richie fuckin’ Tozier, is that you? I’m such a big fan,” he said, sitting himself down next to Richie and pulling him into a hug.  
Richie was lost for words. Think of something to say. Anything.  
“Eddie... Didn’t know you’d be coming along, it’s my lucky day,” he said, catching Bev’s eye but quickly glancing away.  
“Yeah, I was gonna tell you but you don’t pick up your fuckin’ phone,” Eddie said, pulling away and taking a sip from his water glass.  
“Right… sorry about that guys. I’m working on a new project. Busy busy busy, y’know.”  
They fell into their normal conversations, and even with some Losers not present, it was like old times. They caught up, they laughed, they bickered. Richie tried to crack jokes. He really couldn’t process Eddie being here. Eddie who was sitting right next to him. Eddie who touched his shoulder as he leaned over to get the salt. They ate happily, mostly anyway.  
“Okay, smoke break,” Richie said, getting up from the table.  
“You disgust me,” Eddie quipped.  
“Oh Eds, don’t sweet talk me like that.”  
Richie went out the back of the restaurant, leaning against the wall as he sparked one up. He’d had two doubles with dinner and he didn’t even feel mellow. His fingers were shaking a little. The door swung open and he sighed, glancing over and seeing Beverly.  
“Hey, got a spare?” she asked, leaning against the wall next to him.  
He offered her one, and lit it for her.  
“I’m sorry,” she said.  
“What for?”  
“For not telling you that Eddie was coming. It was supposed to be a surprise and then I realised that maybe you… maybe you wouldn’t see it that way.”  
Richie really didn’t want to be talking about this right now.  
“He’s really worried about you,” Beverly continued.  
“So is everyone, apparently.”  
“You haven’t even called him.”  
“It’s too hard, Bev… I… I can’t-”  
“Honey… Eddie loves and cares about you so much.”  
Richie knew that she knew. Beverly had always known. Even if she didn’t say it out loud. Which she never had. But he couldn’t face this right now.  
“I don’t… I can’t talk about this right now, Bev, please,” he said, and he knew he sounded defeated. Even he didn’t recognise the person he was being right now.

They got back inside and Richie ordered another double. He threw it down too fast.  
“So Eds, what brings you to our end, anyway? Thought New York was more your speed?” Richie asked.  
“I just really needed a change. I didn’t like New York anymore, y’know, after Derry. So here I am. And I guess that brings me on to my bigger news. I’m going to be moving here.”


End file.
